The Sea Monarch — Key Ideas to Explore

There was the sound of a hasty scuffling; then appeared the head and shoulders of the owner of the _Playmate_

The mast snapped off close to the deck, and a block, hurtling through the air, struck Gerald a terrific blow over the head.

Staggering to the door he threw it open. To his great surprise he saw a burly sentry standing without.

In spite of his strenuous resistance they hauled the deserter out of the empty tank, and then unceremoniously bundled him into the gig.

"Look here, Mr. Schneider, you've come to the wrong box with your sneaking complaints. So clear out!"

Bending over the instrument was a young officer, his head practically covered with a metal cap fitted with receivers.

The man staggered, clapped his hand to his shoulder, and fell to the deck, the weapon slipping from his grasp.

Schneider cleared the rail, and leapt into the sea.

The doomed vessel was instantly swept out of existence. The massive outlines of the cruiser seemed to melt into a hundred thousand fragments.

As night fell the searchlights played with unceasing vigilance upon the harbour. Suddenly Captain Brookes turned to Gerald. "Does my compact forbid me using the Z-rays?" he asked.

A party of natives appeared on the beach regarding the cruiser with obvious amazement. In their hands they carried long slender spears, which they brandished menacingly.

Like a terrier let loose amidst a swarm of rats the submarine dashed towards the canoes.

A terrific detonation shook the ground, and a thick cloud of smoke obscured the view of the pinnacle. In an agony of fear the natives threw themselves face downwards in the dust.

Seated up to his waist in water was the aviator, clad in an inflated rubber suit. The engine was lost to view, the tips of the twin propellers just projected above the surface.

"Good shot!" yelled several of the officers on the _Olive Branch_. For a full ten seconds the monoplane held on its course, then, lurching like a wounded bird, it swooped swiftly downwards.

The searchlight revealed a huge circular turret with a pair of monster guns. Slowly the submarine swung round, the light travelling the length of the huge mass of weed-encrusted iron and steel.

The four men threw themselves on the astonished foreigners, and a desperate conflict ensued.

"In view of possible events I must ask you to take up your quarters beneath the armoured deck," said Captain Brookes.

An admiral's pinnace was approaching the shattered _Olive Branch_. Gerald hastened on deck to receive the distinguished officer.

BY PERCY F. WESTERMAN

Author of: "A Lad of Grit," "The Quest of the Golden Hope," etc., etc.

_ILLUSTRATED BY E. S. HODGSON_

THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF THE "ZIETAN"

IT was a scorching afternoon in the month of August. The slanting rays of the sun beat powerfully upon the tranquil waters of Portsmouth Harbour, while the white ensigns of the numerous warships fluttered idly in the almost motionless air.

Swinging easily at her moorings to the first of the young flood lay the torpedo-boat destroyer _Calder_, presenting a very different appearance from its trim state of a few days before. Engine-room defects had occasioned her return to harbour, and as these were of a somewhat serious nature, the opportunity was taken to place the destroyer into dockyard hands for at least two months. The commissioned officers had obtained permission to go on leave, while the _Calder_, in the charge of a gunner, was to be put into dock the following day.

_Ting-ting! Ting-ting! Ting-ting! Ting-ting!_ Eight bells had hardly sounded ere two men appeared on deck, scrambling agilely through the small hatchway that did duty for the ward-room companion. The first was the tall, lean-featured lieutenant-commander. The other, Sub-Lieutenant Gerald Tregarthen, needs a slightly longer introduction.

He was almost the same height as the commander, or a fraction under 5ft. 11 ins. in his socks, and was broad in proportion. His features, tanned by constant exposure to sun, wind, and spray, were clear-cut, almost boyish in expression, while at times there was a roguish light in his deep blue eyes.

Yet beneath the apparently boyish exterior lurked the spirit of a man. When occasion arose those merry lips would compress themselves into a thin, straight line, the powerful chin would be thrust aggressively forward, and a dangerous glint in his eyes would betoken that resolution, coolness, and daring which are the indispensable characteristics of a successful naval officer.

His service career, in spite of its comparative shortness, had been one continued success, yet success had not been gained without sheer hard work. With a "first" in gunnery, torpedo, and navigation, he found himself at an early age well up on the list for promotion.